


Carbon Made

by venefica_aura (crankyoldman), verdot (crankyoldman)



Category: Final Fantasy VIII
Genre: Drama, Gen, Post-Canon, Supernatural - Freeform, Women Being Awesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-28
Updated: 2009-11-27
Packaged: 2017-10-03 21:43:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crankyoldman/pseuds/venefica_aura, https://archiveofourown.org/users/crankyoldman/pseuds/verdot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How does one remain both a sorceress and a girl? A possible look at how Rinoa deals with destiny away from Garden and away from Squall--but still with him. May contain some family issues. Challengefic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Was done for a Rinoa fanwork-a-thon on livejournal.

"Are you _sure_ about this."

He wasn't glaring, really, but he had started to take on this almost authoritarian air about things. Everyone was so_careful_ with her these days, and it was getting dangerously close to reminding her of the time she twisted her ankle as a kid--no, she wasn't _glass_.

"I'm not going anywhere dangerous, I do not have a secret boyfriend, and I'm not asking _you_ to change anything."

It wasn't entirely their fault, she had to admit. She'd been acting like such a... damsel, since it all happened. If Xu hadn't snapped at her like she did, she might not have noticed that she'd become the exact opposite of what she'd been trying to prove.

"The safest place is here," he practically muttered.

"Esthar is just as safe." She'd rehearsed the responses.

She was never going to be as put together as Quistis, or persuasive as Selphie, but she was at least going to be _something_ other than "the Commander's girlfriend". Rinoa figured that he'd be _glad_ she was giving him some space.

And then... well, he was... him.

"I'm not _leaving_, Squall."

It was the tension in the shoulders that gave him away. She didn't know if it was powers or maturity or too many half conversations that had let her notice such things. Maybe a little of both, considering now she just couldn't help noticing the little things about people. And things like scorn and annoyance _hurt_ in ways she hadn't expected.

"We'll stay in contact. I'll write, and you can write back if you want," she continued. He wasn't going to say anything for a bit.

She took his hand. "Besides, I bet you're sick of me hanging out here and distracting you from work and all that."

He squeezed. "I'll get your bag," he replied.

Alright, maybe she did want to cry a little bit. But they were nineteen, and that was just... too young to be settled as one person. If things were meant to be--which was a really unsteady position--then it would turn out alright. If not.

Rinoa didn't want to think about that, not while he was doing that brave silent almost sulky thing.

_xxx_

She still loved flying, the wind in her hair as she went out on the deck. Squall had too much to take care of, so he said, but she knew that it took a lot for him to just walk her up to the ship's platform. Rinoa had been starting to wonder about him, whether it had just been all that adrenaline and mixed up feelings from adventure. It was comforting to know that he would miss her. Rinoa had always been the type to look for signs.

"We're about an hour away. You'll have to come inside and buckle up during the landing."

That, and he'd practically sent his best just to escort her on a little flight. She was especially glad he'd sent Quistis; while Selphie would make her laugh, Quistis made her feel... stronger.

"Do you agree with me? Be honest. I haven't really gotten anyone's straight opinion on this."

Quistis let her posture go as she leaned on the railing.

"For you? Well, I don't really object to anyone wanting to understand themselves better, especially in your case."

The side of Quistis's mouth quirked up.

"But for the rest of us, well, we might end up tying Squall up for a while."

Alright, Quistis could make her laugh, too. Especially now that they understood where they stood with each other. Quistis may not have understood the kinds of normalcies that Rinoa sometimes missed, but she understood the voices, the wild feral things at the heart of most magic.

"Might just be easier knocking him out."

"Kadowaki does keep some good tranquilizers."

"...Is he going to be alright, really?"

Quistis took a deep breath. "He should be. I'll keep an eye on him, alright?"

She nodded. "Alright. I'll write you too, if you want."

"You should write Selphie, she'll want to hear about your adventures with 'Sir Laguna'."

Well, Rinoa doubted there would be much 'adventure' anymore. Laguna was a president, which probably meant he'd be tied up with other types of things to do. And since Ellone was going to Garden... well, it was going to be strange. She doubted that he'd be there to greet her, even.

"I won't leave out a single detail."

_xxx_

Esthar was so _bright_. She didn't remember it being so bright. Past the cloak it was all glass and metal, which made everything seem white and glittering in the sun. She had to squint and shield her eyes to see the platform below her, and maybe who was supposed to escort her.

Last chance to turn back and say she was kidding. Quistis would understand. No, no. Rinoa wanted to understand.

Instead, she gripped her necklace and stepped forward. "Hello, I'm--"

"RINOA!"

She smiled. Laguna had actually come to greet her. She shouldn't have doubted that, not for a second. President or not, he was just one of those people. Squall would have turned out very differently if... well. Maybe she shouldn't wish that. Wouldn't want to have to beat women off him, considering.

"I didn't expect you here!"

Selphie was going to be _so jealous_.

"I'm not _that_ busy not to come show our new VIP around."

She turned back to Quistis. "Well, looks like I'm all set."

Quistis nodded. "I'll be sure to let you know if anything comes up." The natural undertone to that statement made Rinoa worry a little, but that was just how it worked having a boyfriend that went out and fought dangerous things on a regular basis.

"Let's go for a walk!" Rinoa wanted to giggle at Laguna's energy. If he were a character in a comic book she imagine his little speech bubbles would have friendly looking text and lots of exclamation points.

But the absolute first thing she was going to do was pick up some sunglasses.


	2. Carbon Made Chapter 2

Had to be the sunglasses, and the wide-brimmed hat she'd gotten as well. Maybe it was because she wasn't wearing blue, but a pale-yellow cream that was something like a dress she once owned, only more modest. There was a little girl in her that could pretend she was a movie star on a retreat, that normally she was followed by cameras and groupies, but she'd decided to slip past the veil of anonymity for a while.

And here, walking along the light-saturated streets with probably the world's last honest journalist, she felt calm. Which was kind of funny, considering they'd practically wanted to burn her at the stake the last time she was here.

"And over here is... well, I'm not sure what it is, but it's kind of pretty."

About ten minutes ago, she got the feeling Laguna had no idea where he was going. Not that she minded, part of her hoped they'd get a little lost, just so she could hear him ramble on about 'the giant knitting needles' and 'corkscrew stuck in the ground'. Estharian art was very mechanical like that.

"Laguna?"

The first time she'd met Laguna in person she realized who he was. They had a similar... well, aftertaste. Rinoa still had a hard time describing that _thing_ all people had, which she noticed more as she actually tried to _focus_ on things. There were other similarities too, which Squall denied vehemently. She let that issue go, after all, she wasn't exactly close with her own father. So she'd kept in contact with Laguna for him.

Well, and Selphie. The monthly Laguna letters had allowed them to get along maybe more than anything.

"Yup, what can I do for you?" He'd been fiddling with what looked like a water fountain of some kind, and a small part of it came off in his hand. He set it back down and looked away from it innocently.

"Am I... making things difficult, being here?"

He scratched the back of his neck in a gesture she knew quite well from someone else.

"Well, like I told, ah, the Garden people who called... Dr. Odine and anyone else like that got put in jail, so the only people that know who you _are_... well, are me. And my advisers. I made them pinky swear not to let it out."

Rinoa knew that she wouldn't have been allowed outside of Garden without _some_ kind of setup. She had to admit, her first thought when she decided she needed _something_ was to leave a note and take the first train to Timber, but she wasn't sixteen anymore. No, she couldn't just run off like that. It was bratty and immature, and being around people that grew up the instant they hit puberty had been... humbling. Maybe a little disturbing. Ellone had given her the idea that the last place people would expect her would be Esthar, considering their paranoia and history.

But that wasn't what she was asking. "No, I mean... for you."

When Laguna looked serious, the subtle smile lines of his face got deeper, and it was obvious he wasn't quite the man from the dreams, the one that Ellone had remembered so well. The fact that her mother was her _amulet_ of sorts for years was proving to be a really morbid thing. What was Julia Heartilly really, if the mere mention of her, even subtly, caused people so much pain?

But that look didn't last long. "Of course not. What guy wouldn't want to spend some time with a pretty girl?"

She smiled under her hat. "Thank you."

"Anytime. Now. Where were we on the tour..."

"We'd just passed the giant corkscrew and you were about to get to the lime green can."

Of course it wasn't completely safe here. They couldn't account for everything. But she was glad for that, because allowed some... risk. Rinoa couldn't know what she was made of if there wasn't a some kind of uncontrolled element.

"Right! And next is the... wait. We were here already."

She laughed. "Maybe we just got a little turned around?"

"I could have sworn we were... let's go this way."

_xxx_

It was kind of creepy how Esthar could seem so abandoned at noontime. So different from where she grew up, and even Timber--people always bustling about, going about their lives. It had been all a frightening blur last time, and now... it really was a nation of isolation. Where people were even isolated in their own lives, their own homes. Rinoa knew why they'd latched onto Laguna so well then, as he was the exact opposite. That comfortable everywhere-everyplace, a kind of human tornado that managed only to rearrange lawn furniture.

But it wasn't entirely quiet. There was someone.

"Hey, I just saw someone, I'm going to ask them for directions, ok?"

He was sitting on some kind of dry fountain, map splayed out. Maybe he'd find the way, but it couldn't hurt if she asked this person, who was walking slowly on the other side of an alleyway. Rinoa was already off in that direction, before Laguna could even answer. If Angelo had come with her, she might have been able to send him ahead, but she'd left him with Zell because he said he'd take good care of him...

For someone moving so _slowly_, this stranger still seemed so far off. Maybe she just had to yell for them, let them know she was there. Rinoa took a breath.

"Excuse me! I have a question!"

The scandals of her childhood had been scrapped knees while running with the local "riff-raff" as the imperial General had always put it. Rinoa was running now, and it was strange how the figure didn't seem to get closer--though now that she'd gotten a good enough look, she could see it was a woman. Her long white-blonde hair was tied back in a sort of braid, and she had an umbrella to ward off the searing sun.

"Excuse--" the woman rounded the corner and Rinoa finally seemed to be catching up. Estharian architecture must have been full of optical illusions or something like that, it was the only way to explain it. Oh, it had been too long since she'd run like this, hat in hand and hair trailing behind her like a comet's tail, skirt rustling around her like sea foam.

"Ha! There you--" She was back in the square, Laguna still sitting trying to decipher the map and looking just like she'd left him.

He looked up. "What's wrong?"

Rinoa looked around. "I... I think I just saw someone. I went chasing after them and..." she trailed off into just a breath, almost an exasperated sigh.

Laguna looked more puzzled than he had been looking at the map. "You were only gone for a moment, I figured you saw something interesting."

"I was going to go ask someone I saw for directions," she said. Funny, she didn't feel winded at all, considering how much running she'd just done.

"I didn't see anyone." Laguna was nice enough he wouldn't ask if she was feeling alright. There was nothing more that bothered her these days as people asking if she was _feeling alright_ with that look on their faces that clearly said she was loony.

She looked at the ground, and dug her toe into the pavement. "You have any idea where we are now?"

"No, but I just remembered I had a radio!"

Maybe there were other reasons why Ellone had suggested this place. Despite the warmth, it almost made Rinoa shiver.


	3. Carbon Made Chapter 3

Kiros was graceful about their troubles, and he arrived just in time to keep Laguna from attempting to navigate them around again. She knew _someone_ would have a few choice words about a president lost in his own city, but she could understand it, maybe just a little. Everyone was lost in their own way.

Of course, when they thought she was out of earshot, they talked.

"I thought you were going to bring her here as soon as she got off that ship."

"Well, it's a nice day, and she looked like she needed to get out a bit."

"I'm usually fine with whatever you decide, but do you remember the witch hunt last time?"

"Oh, no one would recognize her."

"Not a normal random person off the street, no."

"She should have a chance to find herself like normal kids her age. Come on, you remember what we were up to then?"

Their voices blended together into one big _adult_ voice of authority, and she closed her eyes and tried to shut it out. She didn't mean to hear things sometimes, and it seemed like the less she wanted to hear something the more likely she was going to. And it made her wonder, think about the kinds of things she hadn't for a long time.

What would her father have been like if he had friends like Laguna did?

_xxx_

Sleep was not something Rinoa cared for much anymore. Maybe it was because the thin film of normalcy was almost nonexistent then, maybe it was because when _it_ happened she couldn't wake up. That thing that she wasn't quite sure she wanted to recognize yet.

There was a part of her there, as she snuck around the general estate of Laguna's residence, that knew _waking_ had really been the worst part. Even waking and having someone to--

Rinoa was exploring.

From what she remembered from tutors, the tiles were really a sequence of numbers, a pattern. Laguna had told her before she went to the room she'd been given that there was a garden somewhere around here, he just didn't remember exactly where it was. All the metal and glass looked strangely less frightening at night, when the shadow made it almost look like stone. Still, there was this tug to see something _living_ that pulled her out of the bed and out into the filtered Estharian moonlight.

Of course her mind wandered, if only to keep from thinking about how _cold_ the mathematical patterns of tile felt under her bare feet.

"I wonder what you're doing in your garden," she whispered, because she'd learned not to ask questions in her head. It echoed too strangely when she did that. Rinoa caught a shadow-kind that moved in the corner of her vision, and that part of her that was still sixteen pulled her to follow it.

Unlike the chase during the day, this one wasn't long, more like a shortcut through a corridor she wouldn't have thought to follow. There was no pale and blonde woman this time, but a familiar male shape that nearly blended in with the shade of a tree.

Her heart sank a little, though, to realize even the gardens in Esthar were contained in pots and under glass.

"Your dad's really nice."

It was a strange thing to say to something that was likely a hallucination, but she couldn't help it. There was a part him that was there, and Rinoa was learning to accept some of the strange things that happened on a sort of faith.

_"When are you coming home?"_

Once, she remembered, he was away on a mission, the kind that he practically volunteered himself to do, and she'd _heard_ him talking one night. She'd responded, but he couldn't hear back--maybe that was what had made Rinoa decide, really, to go for a while. They'd worked out how to talk to each other face to face, as well as they could, but they still hadn't worked out how to talk when they were away.

She had the feeling that was important.

"You had training and a sword, but what do I get?"

It wasn't any wonder that they ended up together, no accounting for fate or anything silly like that. Rinoa only had to look at the family Squall remembered--those elegant and powerful in all the strange ways women and lost children--and her father and it was pretty obvious.

She'd gotten the cold military man to speak, now she had to work on elegance and power. Even if it really _scared_ her.

_"I know it was you that brought us back. I'll never forget that."_

_xxx_

It was a cool hand with well manicured nails that woke her up, stroking her hair in a way that her mother had when she was very small, the kind of memory that wasn't conscious until something so similar happened that she couldn't ignore it. Rinoa had fallen asleep on the bench in the garden, and Laguna was probably looking for her--she didn't want him to end up in a broom closet or anything.

_It's in the office. Go and take it._

She almost jumped then, because unlike the night before, this voice was _in_ her ear.

"There you are." Kiros, this time with Ward were standing at the entrance of the greenhouse, not looking particularly worried. Then again, they _were_ armed.

"I couldn't sleep," she offered, glad that she was past the see-through nightgown phase. Squall had turned out to be one of those types that liked it when she wore his plain white shirts and some shorts to bed. It was cheaper anyway.

"Laguna's got some business today, he said you're welcome to the office."

"Maybe once I'm... dressed."

_It_ smiled, and she had to wonder if that was a good sign.


	4. Carbon Made Chapter 4

She'd seen messes like this a lot in the past couple of years. The purging, the organizing, the discovery. Rinoa remembered going along with Quistis when they were reorganizing Galbadia, who despite having their own identity was suffering from the loss of any authority structure--apparently they'd suffered more losses than Balamb. She remembered the days that were sure to lead up to a real war, because as she'd learned from whispers and the like, the Sorceress War was at most lukewarm. Many of the battles had been stricken from the papers, left only to rumor and tabloid, right up there with Adel sightings.

The citizens of countries, of towns, they didn't know. And Rinoa couldn't help but hear all about it.

"Oh hello! Sorry for the mess, we just got some thing delivered..."

"From where?" she asked, trying to look as innocent as possible. That tended to help things, she'd learned.

Laguna looked over at Kiros for a moment, and figured they were having some sort of conversation that she wasn't supposed to be able to pick up on. The SeeDs did that; she always noticed.

"Oh, just some musty old books and files from places we don't have anymore. Nothing to worry about. Unless you trip on something," he replied, hand on the back of his neck in a completely harmless gesture.

Very diplomatic. Squall was silly, Laguna was a fantastic leader. He knew his limitations, kept people he trusted near him, and he could make just about anyone like him. Then again, maybe that was the problem. She suspected Squall was loosening up about him. It would be interesting if they ever teamed up. Well, she hoped _when_.

"I can help, if you want. I'm sure you don't like being cooped up here with all these papers."

Laguna relaxed, as if he had been trying to figure out a way to ask her to do just that. Or to let her know there wouldn't be much exploring that day. Or they were out of cereal. She supposed it was Ward's job to make sure he didn't feel too bad about letdowns, using those enormous hands of his to pat him on the back.

Rinoa knew what he meant by _musty_ when she made the mistake of actually opening a binder.

She coughed. "Oh gross."

"Right, forgot to warn you, these... well, they've been sitting for a while."

And here she was going to say something nice about a President that took time to do the work that a lackey typically would. It wasn't kindness and generosity--no one in their right mind would want to catalog books and binders that smelled like a combination of old hot dogs, Angelo being bad, and something that she was sure was living once and was very very ugly.

"Maybe they died."

"Probably."

"Maybe we should just bury them. I'm sure you could grow flowers."

He laughed. She liked his laugh. Strangely enough Irvine laughed just like that. Maybe they went to the same school of Long Haired and Charming.

"Right here in the office!"

Kiros had snuck out, she'd noticed, nearly as it happened. Ward had taken off before that. Well, she supposed they were always busy, making sure things ran smoothly. That or they were smart enough to run off before they too got roped into this chore. Definitely more likely.

Laguna tossed her a pair of gloves. At least they were somewhat prepared.

"So exactly how are we sorting things out?" she asked, letting the glove _snap_ against her wrist. Sometimes Rinoa found herself doing things like that, as if to remind her that it was real.

"Well, on all the inside covers there are dates. So by those."

Someone had been a little meticulous, even if they had bad handwriting. Only people that wanted to be remembered put dates on everything, she'd heard once from her father. It was funny how as much as she wanted to put him out of her mind, he'd crop up. Something that Squall would say, something that smelled a certain way... Rinoa was clutching her rings again.

It was going to be a lazy day.

_xxx_

Laguna couldn't stay quiet when working. He told her stories she knew she'd heard before, actually, she'd been there. Rinoa didn't have the heart to tell him to stop as he went over the exploits yet again. If she wanted to, she could be listening to several people at once, and understand them all. It was the little things that disturbed her the most, the things that she supposed she should have taken advantage of.

The light brush of a hand with well manicured nails on her cheek.

She looked over her shoulder, and nothing was there. Rinoa hoped Laguna didn't notice, but in the corner of her eye he was making hand puppet motions as he explained Caraway--she called him Daddy until she decided she was too wild for sitting in the drawing room--in this part of the story, because he was caught up in it.

Under her right gloved hand, something felt warm. She looked down. _Take it._

It felt like that one time, when her unruly friends had goaded her into taking a handful of candy without paying for it, even though she had the money, she always had the money. Rinoa had split it with them, so she wouldn't feel bad, and to some extent she felt good about it. Things like that had never been about taking, though, they had been about getting away with it.

"So that's how I learned how to peel potatoes _really_ well..."

_xxx_

It would take her a couple days to come up with the right words, so Rinoa had decided to start on her letter to Squall. Even if it was getting sent over the invisible wires that all data was turning into. Laguna had explained to her that was the point of sorting out all those smelly books...

...well, they weren't all smelly. But she didn't want to think about the one she'd slipped under her skirt on way out of his office.

_Hi Squall. How's the weather?_

She hit the backspace key hard a few times. This was her seventh attempt at a sentence after saying 'hi' and they all sounded dumb. Rinoa knew that people found her clingy, but what they didn't understand was that was how she'd always communicated, because of her mother. When her father stopped gently putting his hand on her shoulder when she looked scared, that was when she knew something was _wrong_.

Rinoa bit her lip.

"I don't even know what I'm looking for!"

Not that she expected anyone to answer. But part of her hoped someone did, as much as she feared it. So much fear... after all, she'd _pulled_ them back. Hand to her heart, something in her throat, _she'd pulled them back_ because... because things like that _mattered_.

She sighed. "If nothing exists, nothing has to matter anymore. Is that what it was?"

Alright, at this rate she really was going to the loony bin.

When she was a kid and felt like this, she would sit in Daddy's study and read through his heaviest books. Maybe if Rinoa had kept that up she wouldn't have had such sloppy plans, but she remembered enough from them. General Caraway, obsessed with tactics had given that legacy to his daughter. Oh how she'd _fought_ that, going through tutors faster than clothes, telling him that he probably wasn't even her real dad.

_Hi Squall. I know that you want certain things, but I really hope that you don't end up like my father._

But it was still there. Knowing that people could be manipulated, sometimes going with that instinct. Sometimes wanting to laugh at how easy it was, because she'd always been able to read them. There had always been something in the back of her mind that wanted to _laugh_ and now she could almost hear it...

She held the backspace key this time.


	5. Carbon Made Chapter 5

_We have wings because from up high, they all look like ants._

Rinoa wondered about winter.

Maybe it was all the places that Laguna had been telling her about all week, but she realized she'd never actually seen it. Only a rain that was sometimes cold, but it was like a drizzly Spring. If she went off of only what she had experienced, then she could almost fool herself into thinking it didn't exist. But from someone that had been seemingly all over the world and from the phantom-limb feeling of frost on her fingertips, it had to exist.

Well, that was a little too philosophical.

Being in Esthar was like getting a really crappy job. And somehow not minding it. After they had gotten through the moldy files that Laguna had piled in his office there were other such confiscated items to go through. She'd even been allowed to keep some of the lesser items, like a rather pretty pocket knife she figured Squall would like.

Rinoa had never been above work, not really. Her problem had always been sitting still.

"Have you just been staying around here because of me?" Laguna was the leader of a _country_. Even if she really adored his brand of friendly not-Squall-but-yet around, she hadn't meant to be catered to. Some people, well, they made her angry with that.

Certain military men came to mind.

He gave her that nervous smile that Squall pretended he didn't have and shifted his weight from one leg to the other. "Maybe a little bit. I don't really have to do much besides show up places and look pretty." Switch to the goofy smile that Squall hadn't figured out yet.

Rinoa had found it odd how distant Squall could be to his father. But the longer she was here, the more the invisible hands felt like the cold dead weight of the ring on a chain. The smell of books and the oil the went with fixing up old machines had brought memories of her own dad. She knew that Squall had been impressed with _General Caraway_, like a lot of people were.

Did he think it was as unnatural as she found his distance to _President Loire?_

"How about you take a day off, Laguna. I promise not to wander anywhere off the grounds."

_xxx_

Rinoa, strangely, probably understood him a little more than he thought she did. After all, he hadn't asked to be where he was either. She only hoped that she came off half as well as he did with it--one day she wasn't just going to be some strange girl that a stranger wandering around Garden would wonder exactly what was off about her. One day... one day everyone would know. And maybe they wouldn't be afraid.

"Just promise you'll _look_ before you do anything."

When the shadows were at their shortest, she regretted letting him go. It was silly, because she'd been very grown up just that morning, thinking about heavy things and letting the person she was most comfortable around go do things for his country for a change, but there was something about the way the light hit the metal so harshly that unsettled her a little.

It reminded her of blank pages, something which she'd spent a week ignoring. Blank pages and blank letters.

Without Laguna around, it was so empty. She could be a glass half empty kind of girl in this desert feeling place, container garden reminding her that it would only ever be summer here, if she were to stay for a long time. Rinoa hadn't planned on more than a month, because she figured that whatever types of things that Ellone could walk around with would either come and pat her on the shoulder or just leave her alone.

_It starts with 'Dear Squall'_

The day it had all gone wrong had started when she found the ring. Rinoa hadn't been allowed in that room, Daddy had specifically told her to stay out of it, in that firm tone. She had to have been seven at the time. Angelo wasn't even around yet, just her and that spinning top toy.

_'I'll bet you'd never have guessed that I've always tried to shake people out of things. I've never been very good at sitting still.'_

The doors in Esthar were as unlocked as the doors back at home. Daddy had always placed a certain trust on her to follow his words, because locked doors only made things more interesting. Even still, it was only the sound of footsteps, the fleeting kind of hope that a seven year old can have when they were still used to a mother. And she could almost smell her perfume, something cold and airy like a wind that didn't happen around there.

_'I always figured you had to lose something in order to grow up. That's the way all the people I grew up with treated it--who'd be first to lose their baby teeth, their knobby knees, their virginity. Maybe once you'd lost everything you'd be all grown up, like my dad.'_

There were all her long dresses, her vanity, her shoes and makeup. Mom's room was a dressing room for when she would go out and sing, even after getting married. Rinoa found out later that she hadn't finished writing one for Daddy yet, because she hadn't been able to find the perfect note. But in the room with her feathers and sequins, satin gloves and ivory combs Rinoa felt safe. She was far too short to fit into anything, but she put on the fluffiest dress she could find and teetered on the tallest heels. Then, she looked in the drawer.

_'But it really wasn't grown up at all, it was just sad. I started to get angry because the longer time went on, the less he seemed attached to anything. All he was, all I ever heard from his mouth was loss loss loss, nothing else.'_

A perfect shiny sliver of a band, sitting in the middle without any other jewelry to keep it company.

_'I started to see darkness, death, this shadow in everything he did and I wanted life. I stayed out late at the loudest parties and made friends with the rowdiest people I could because it had to be better than sitting still in an office pretending that I was living. That maybe if I was so bright that it burned, the shroud would shrivel up and go away._

She'd tripped into his office, that clear cold smell of her mother's perfume masking the usual smell of old books and gun grease. It had taken her a while to stand just right, a little white gosling in too tall of shoes and way too big of a dress, holding up a little treasure for her Daddy, because that's who she'd taken the ring for. She thought it was his, because he used to wear one before Mom had gone away.

_'That didn't work too well. It seemed no matter how big a noise I made, all it would mean was some time spent in the cold empty places of my house. I got better at sneaking out the more he did that, and he got more and more intent on making me sit still.'_

It was the only time she'd ever seen him _afraid_. Like she'd just brought in a monster or a boyfriend. He stood up shakily, leaning on that desk she would learn to _hate_ and stared at her, waiting a few moments before...

"Give me that, go to your room and _stay there_," Rinoa found herself whispering.

_'Maybe you can see why when I saw you, standing like some ridiculous statue in a party full of moving people I just had to pull you out there. Because I know that look, that distance. It's ok to be sad or afraid, but it's not ok to not feel anything.'_

But she hadn't done that. She'd balled her little fist up and tore off the dress, pulled out of the shoes and ran, ran out those unlocked doors and as far as she could because that wasn't him, that wasn't Daddy. In the middle of the night a witch had replaced him with a dark man. A shadow man. Dust.

Rinoa determined then, when she was too tired and he eventually caught up with her, that she wouldn't hold still. She couldn't turn to dust like he had, and so she'd cried and fought and ran and everything she could think of. No one seemed to know about enchantments like that.

_'I think, though, that it's just as bad to feel everything. That always being angry and excited and all that in between doesn't mean you're actually a part of anything. I'm glad you're... steady. I guess I needed a little darkness too, you know?'_

Just a flicker of expression. She started to wear it openly, this symbol of rebellion, this amulet. Rinoa wouldn't forget and neither would he, not until it was broken. And when she saw him, this boy with eyes like dust in winter, and that little symbol of something he held onto himself, she had to connect herself to it. Tokens were silly things, but even at seventeen she could still believe in enchantments.

_'I should have been telling you about the things I've been up to out here, but it would bore you. I figured that you would appreciate this a little more. Really, I just wanted to say, I can understand. Or at least I try.'_

She hit the 'return' key and realized that she wasn't outside anymore. The dimly lit room with the curtains drawn and the lone terminal sent goosebumps up her arm. Rinoa never liked it when she lost her spatial reasoning like that, lost her ability to control where she was. But she had been putting off writing it for a week, and she supposed that the silence and the emptiness was enough. Might as well finish what she'd started typing.

_'I think I'll be home soon. Listen to Selphie when she tells you to take a break, she knows better.'_

Her shoulders always shook a little when she started crying, but the phantom hands were steadying them. Rinoa supposed she should have jumped at something that wasn't really there, but it was just as much a part of her as anything else. At least something was strong.

_'Love always, Rinoa.'_


	6. Carbon Made Chapter 6

_'One new message.'_

It blinked at her, and she groggily looked up at it. Rinoa hadn't expected to fall asleep at the terminal like that, but then, she didn't know how long it had taken her to write a message. Someone must have been waiting for word from her for a while, considering that it was a quick response. When she focused even more, setting aside the feelings and looked straight _at_ the screen, the sender was right next to it in big block letters.

_'SLEONHART'_

It was true she had doubts about them--he was him and she was herself, even if _herself_ was nebulous at best. But he had a lot to say, for his part, usually in short phrases and looks and the kinds of things that she'd learned only she could read. His color was _grey_ most of the time, but that was alright. Maybe taking off to face the thing she wasn't ready to face was also a little bit of a test of him. Most girls she knew tested their boyfriends. But she was in the unique position of testing a Knight, which wasn't nearly as silly and stupid. He'd been through Hell once before, but she'd been asleep most of the time, unable to know exactly _what_. Some of her loneliness here, even more pronounced than it had ever been, it must have been his too.

_'I'm always here, when you want to say something. Even if you don't._

_\- Squall'_

It was so like him, to summarize something complicated and crazy into a single sentence or two and put more meaning into it than she could. Rinoa could smell leather, staring at that, warm black leather with just a hint of sweat. He only ever took off that jacket on the beach, when they all went to that place to pretend like they had normal childhoods. She'd gone alone here because she wanted to know if she was _strong enough_ but that wasn't the point. All the Sorceresses that had gone crazy in the past has been without a Knight for one reason or another. When Edea was herself...

Rinoa's feather was black, and it wasn't a desert, but a barren wasteland of snow she had been wandering in.

_xxx_

"Why are you still wearing the same clothes as yesterday?" Laguna's voice was a little jarring, but then, she'd only given him a day off, really. He must have thought she was sleeping in, as he'd gotten no word that she'd left the grounds.

_If you go, I'll meet you there._

"Where is it?" Rinoa asked with Squall's sort of even tone, or maybe even Quistis's, the kind that could tell someone to go and risk their life. It surprised her and excited her all at once.

"Where's what?" Laguna replied, charmingly befuddled. She rose from her seat, simple black dress rustling down to her ankles.

"I want to see where they put people like me." _I'm going to make it so they can't make me sit still again, Squall. I know you can hear me. I know you can._

"Why would you want to go there?"

Rinoa reached for the book, she knew it would be there, maybe it hadn't been there a moment before but it was there _now_ and that's all that mattered. Now she was going to clasp her hands behind her back and give her best smile to Laguna and erase any worry from his features. Now Squall was going to pause outside the training center on his way to somewhere else, deciding to go in.

"Just a quick peek, I guess."

Judging by his sense of directions, it would take most of the day to get there.

_xxx_

_We are the authors of history. It is written and carried out by our hands._

Without all the tubes and the power connecting to it, it was just metal. No hiss of cryogenics, no ice, no steam. Metal and glass like a coffin out of a story that her father used to tell her. Only she was the witch now and she'd left the hero at home. Sure, Laguna was there, edging on her peripheral, but she only needed to close the door and she could be alone.

No, Rinoa was never **alone**. On the one side, it was quiet afternoons and games of distract-the-commander, and on the other, it was the whispers of the spurned, those that would not be alone and so they came into her head saying **burn**thewitch...

"I'm not what's going to burn," she said aloud.

"Rinoa? Hey, I've got a bad--" With a smile she closed the door. Hopefully Laguna would forgive her later, but this was between her and--and the boy-man in the training center, just warming up.

The blonde woman stood in the corner, wearing white.

As Rinoa stepped up to it, this prison marked as a memorial, she realized just how small it was. The first time she'd been there it had seemed so vast, so sprawling, a frozen ocean of wires and glass. She wasn't sure if it was time or if it was just that now she could _see_ things as well as she'd always felt them, but it was almost pathetic. To think that she'd had nightmares of this place, to think that she'd woken up and gripped his hand and told him, _no, I couldn't be like that, not forever, closed in like that, unable to move._

He was waiting, but he wasn't standing still. Squall raised his right hand with his gunblade; she raised her right hand with the weapon of an invisible legacy.

"I'm doing this for _us_ not for you," she spoke to the blonde woman in the corner. When Rinoa could see, things were so clear they almost hurt--it didn't matter who the woman was, really. It wasn't her she'd been chasing anyway. It only mattered that the woman was always there, and always had been. Maybe it was Rinoa's own way of making sense of all the signals.

"Then do it already," she said with her mother's voice.

The trigger on a gunblade worked so much different from the trigger that she called, something that she'd always used like a question, but was supposed to be a command. The flame was blue, a brilliant sapphire variety, the kind of thing that was so beautiful it had to be dangerous. When it came into contact with the metal, it softened and lost its shape, and the glass quietly turned into a multicolored pool where the coffin had been.

She watched it burn, and it was--no, there was something else. Rinoa would get the chain fixed later, it wasn't like she didn't know people that fixed things. She slipped the ring with the lion on her finger, the other she blew like a dandelion seed in with the rest of the things that she'd been afraid of.

It was only a start, because she found herself on her knees, gasping. _Too much?_

Laguna with a crowbar stood in the doorway, gaping at the column of fire that faded into embers after only a breath more. Rinoa waved to him tiredly. Squall would probably be in the training center for hours--it would take her a while to reach his kind of skill.

"Are you... what was... Rinoa, I'm confused."

"I'm sorry, I should have asked if you were planning on salvaging that with the rest of Odine's things."

He didn't really think she hadn't noticed how a lot of those files they'd been going through were labeled? And that was the first time that he didn't look at her with kind benevolence. It was just a flicker, really, anyone else would have missed it. But Laguna brushed it aside as he lent a hand to help her stand.

"I sure hope no one noticed that..."

"It's ok, Laguna. They'll find out eventually."

She wasn't quite sure if she believed the confidence in saying that, but it didn't matter really. Rinoa had been called headstrong once, for not worrying about the after once it had happened. They could be a little right. That instance of a strong hand at her shoulder and the faint smell of leather assured her that someone thought about the consequences at least.

_A Knight is a conduit, a direction. A Knight is a compass._

She looped her arm in Laguna's. "Can you tell me more about Esthar?" she asked, leading them out, far away from the twisted metal and glass that looked almost like a wing if someone were viewing it from on high.


	7. Carbon Made Chapter 7

"So, did you figure it out?" Quistis had waited until they were touching down in Balamb to ask it. Rinoa had put her red dress on and was gripping the railing, almost straining to see ahead. The air tasted faintly metallic, something that Balamb always had a tinge of. As if training people were written into the very air; the warm sea salt air.

"That's a pretty loaded question." Rinoa could be blunt with Quistis.

"Well, there has to be something different... you weren't as annoyingly girly and impulsive before you left. You seem lighter again." Quistis smirked a little, and Rinoa noticed then that she'd cut her hair a little. A small change, but enough for her to notice. The part of her hair on top flipped a little less when she moved and the wind caught it. It was good to see Quistis could still be blunt with Rinoa.

"Speaking of, you didn't tell Squall I was bringing Laguna with me, right?"

"I didn't tell Selphie either. Irvine's started a pool on how long Mr. Loire is going to survive and if he's going to die by suffocation or angst."

Because of this, she was laughing when a bump signalled they were actually landing. Laguna was buckled up, like they should have been, but Rinoa had somehow skirted around being tucked into the stuffy compartment. Didn't seem like Quistis had wanted to go inside either, so it worked out.

She could tell he was there even before he shifted and the black he always wore stopped looking like a shadow. Then again, Rinoa rarely missed looking at shadows anymore. Of course there was a commotion the instant that Laguna stepped out and made his way from the deck to the ramp--a yellow and brown blur that was Selphie in a cowboy hat nearly knocked her over. But she'd hear about it later, once Selphie came back down to earth.

The first time she was in Esthar, she had gone unwillingly--at least, she certainly hadn't agreed to it. After that time, she'd collapsed into his arms like a damsel and sat on his lap like a princess. This time, she'd gone of her own will, even if she hadn't realized then why she was going at all.

This time, she merely took his hand, like she'd seen her mother do to her father. Like walks around town, the both of them with a hand of hers each, the safest place a small child could be. Rinoa could speak his language of comfort and few words too.

_Even if I can feel you every night, it's good to see you in the daylight._

"You look different in red," Squall said. He'd been two footsteps behind her for a month, if only in that freaky strange way that she'd learned was _his_ legacy. Rinoa hadn't erased the problems from before, for him or her, but she had to enjoy that silly kind of eyes-only-for-you way that he was behaving. Well. Until Selphie heard that Laguna would be staying for a while. Very few people alive could make a sound of excitement quite like that.

Squall gave that _look_. "I suppose you have an explanation."

She smiled in that way she used to just before asking for a moomba or something equally crazy from her father. "I have a few ideas I'd like to talk about once we're settled."

He just shrugged. Politics and family business would happen later. For now they were just a boy and a girl holding hands, the pressure of his letting her know that no matter how connected they were otherwise, he really was the type that just wanted something he could touch.

Rinoa could live with being tangible.


End file.
